Category: The Boaz Stenographer

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 26

When I got back to the house Regina was sitting at the kitchen bar with her water and a bottle of Coor’s Lite beside my plate.  Sunday’s had become somewhat of a routine.  We either went together to church, normally First Baptist Church of Christ, although, sometimes we visited a different one, or we just hung out here at Shepherd’s Cove.

“Shoot me if I ever drink another beer.”

“I take it you woke up with a splitting headache.  Any nausea?”  Regina asked, going over to the refrigerator and pouring me a glass of tea.

“No, thank goodness.”

“Are you okay after last night?”

“I’m fine and I don’t want to talk about it right now.  I have something else on my mind.  It’s kind of personal.  Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, and don’t ever ask me that question again.  You can always ask me.  Anything.”  Regina said putting a slice of pizza on my plate.

“Okay, thanks, here goes.  I took a large bite of our Supreme, the best pizza in Boaz.  “What are you doing?”

“Is that your question?  Uh, I think I’m sitting here with you eating pizza.”

“No, silly.  With me.  What are you doing here with me?”

“You’re normally better at asking questions.  Let me frame it for you, assuming I’m understanding where you are trying to go.  How do I view our relationship?  Are we just friends, pals, or are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“That helps a lot.”

“Now that we have the question on the table, or bar, I think I’ll just eat this wonderful pizza.” Regina said glancing over at me out of the corner of her eye.

“So, we are, as the old saying goes, ‘just friends’?

“Walt Shepherd, I didn’t say that.  Do you need your steno machine?”

“Funny.  It is great pizza.”

With a mouthful, Regina said, “You lamebrain, I have loved you since high school.  You broke my heart when you chose Jennifer over me.  My heart stayed broke until just a few months ago.  Maybe, it is still broken, but I feel like it is healing some, because of our time together.”  She took a big gulp of water.

“Here’s the question I really want to ask, but just needed a little encouragement.  Regina Gillan, will you go steady with me.”  There, I finally said it.  

“Are you serious?  Are we in high school?  Wait, don’t answer that.  I love it.  That was beautiful.  So simple, so safe, yet so exciting. 

The answer is yes.  But, let’s hash out that little question of yours.”

“Okay.  What do you need to know?”

“For you to explain what you mean, when you say, ‘go steady.’”

“Okay.  I do need to give some background to frame the proper context.  I tried to put you out of my mind when I married Jennifer.  My reasoning was, I’ve made my bed, so I might as well lie in it.  Really, I never forgot you.  It wasn’t every day but there were times I thought of you, of us, doing the kinds of goofy things we loved to do: walking in the rain, hiking, writing and sharing little poems, making love in the barn loft.”

“What?”

“Just seeing if you were listening.  Strike the sex, but, in truth, we did make love.  Every time I held your hand, every time I kissed your sweet lips, every time we shared popcorn at a movie, we were making love.”

“It’s all coming back to me now.  Isn’t that a song?  Walt, you are doing a great job reminding me of a few of the reasons I fell in love with you as a fifteen-year-old girl.  Please continue.”

“After Jennifer died, not the next day, but soon after, I started to call you.  Yes, I knew where you were.  I had kept up with you.  I always knew where you were, where you lived and worked, you know.  But, I didn’t call.  I concluded that I would just cause you more pain.  For reasons I’m sure I don’t even know, when I was sitting in the Chief of Staff’s office at the White House, waiting to go in to see the President, I thought of you, and I was sweating.”

“I did always make you sweat.”  Regina chimed in.

“Yes, like right now.  During those short minutes waiting, I thought how it was time to do two right things.  One, stand up and be bold with the President, and the second thing was to come home and try to reconcile with you.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.  I was in Chicago.”

“I had already learned, just a few days earlier, that you had quit the Tribune and were moving back to Boaz.  I think I knew, at least subconsciously, right before I walked into the Oval Office, that my D.C. days were over, that that chapter of my life had ended.  I only hoped that you had left the door to your heart cracked open just a little bit for me.”  I said, standing up and pulling out my wallet and laying on the countertop.

“That’s right, pull out the money.  You’ll need a check too.  Cashier’s only Mr. Shepherd.”  Regina said without exposing any hint of a smile.

“So, you’ll go steady with me if I buy the rights.”

“Absolutely, I learned a valuable lesson the last time you walked out on me.  This time, I’ll need a huge deposit to secure my heart real estate.  We’ll call it a dower.”

“I think you’re confused.  Wasn’t that what a man paid his girlfriend’s family to secure her hand in marriage?”  I asked digging in my wallet.

“Forget that, I don’t care.  I just want everything you’ve got and everything you can borrow.”  Regina now was revealing her gorgeous smile.

“Here, look at this.”  I said pulling out an old tattered photo of me and Regina at the fair.

“You still have our favorite photo.”

“It’s been in my wallet ever since that night, the summer of 1971, two weeks before the start of our senior year.  It’s not the same billfold but it’s the same photo.  Look at the back.”  I said handing it over to Regina.

“August 1, 1971.  Me and my future wife.”  Regina said reading the writing I had scrawled over fifty years ago. “Now, I may be a little confused.  Is this a wedding proposal or are we just going steady?”

“You are so adorable, well, most of the time.  Don’t read too much into the photo.  No, I’m not asking you to marry me, not yet anyway.  I showed you the photo to let you know that you have always been the most important girl in my life.”

“Not important enough to propose to me right now?”  Regina said.  She could be so exhausting at times.

“Quite the opposite.  You are so important to me that I am not, yet, proposing we marry.  You are so important that I want to do this right.  I don’t want to do anything to every lose you.  I want to prove my love to you.  That will take a few more days, weeks, months.  I hope not years.  Does this make any sense?”  I said, now standing across the bar from Regina, taking her right hand in both of mine.

“It does, totally.  I was just pushing your buttons a little.  Regina said, again smiling.

“Which I love.  Please never stop pushing my buttons.” I said leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“Baby, come around here.”  Regina stood and kept clutching my hand as I walked around the bar and pulled her body into mine.  Before we kissed she took my face and said, “Walt, look at me, just look at me.”

I leaned my head back and stared into a blue ocean, of mystery, of the strongest woman in the world, one who certainly could be boisterous but one who knew how to gently wave me towards a calm harbor. After a couple of minutes, lost in her trance, she said, “I will go steady with you if you want me, as long as we keep our hearts right where they are right now.  Can you do that?”

“Yes, double yes.” As we tilted our heads to kiss, we both said at the same time, “I love you.”

 

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 25

Just as Chuck Todd finished his sentence, I heard my iPhone vibrating on the kitchen bar.  I walked over and saw it was from Vann.

“Morning Vann.”

“Top of the morning to you, my most popular best friend.”  Vann said like he was a TV newsman himself.

“Yea, I’m popular alright.  In the worst sort of way.”

“You’re definitely right about your stock value with the local crowd.  You were all the buzz at Grumpy’s Diner this morning.  You and the President of course.”

“Please don’t even tell me.  I know I’m the current whipping boy of the entire Kane Tribe.”  I said feeling my headache reappearing after my huge dose of coffee.

“Don’t worry about it.  The worst I heard was something about burning a cross in your front yard.”

“Thanks.  I feel a lot better.”

“Pastor Warren was actually sympathetic.”

“Was I included in his sermon.  Which service did you go to?”

“I didn’t hear it from a sermon.  I heard it at breakfast.  I thought you knew that Warren and I have breakfast together at Grumpy’s early every Sunday morning.  Been doing that for years.”

“I guess I forgot.  What did the blessed Tillman say?”  I asked pouring me another cup of coffee.

“He said he admires the courage you had in holding to your position.  He said that unfortunately you should have been wiser and less courageous.  You should have known that the President is on the right side of history, and all opposition to the Kane revolution will be squashed.  He compared it to the Israelites being on the right side of God and wiping out all their enemies in the land of Canaan after they fled Egypt.”

“I thought they wandered in the wilderness for forty years?”  I said, certain of my Bible knowledge.

“All that slaughter came after that.”

“Is this why you called me?  To give me a Bible lesson?” “No, but you could learn a whole lot by being faithful to First

Baptist Church of Christ.”  Vann said lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Regina and I came a couple of Sunday’s ago.  You know I’m not much into the church thing.”  I said walking out onto the back porch.

“I’m talking about knowing your enemies.  You’ve heard that phrase, ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer’?”  

“Yes, I think it was Michael Corleone in “The Godfather,” part II, I think.”

“I thought it was Sun Tzu or Machiavelli or Petrarch, who said that.  Here’s my point.  I bet you didn’t know that President Kane stayed with the Warren Tillman family last night after ya’ll’s little party at the

Bevill Center.”

“You got to be kidding.”

“Apparently, the President has one favorite pastor in each state.  Warren told me he met Kane in Mobile in August 2015 when he held a big rally there.  Warren made a big contribution and he’s been a pastor insider of sorts ever since.”

“What else did Kane tell Warren?”

“All I know is what Warren shared with me this morning at breakfast.  Kane and Warren had a couple of hours of quiet time alone on his back porch.  Kane spoke of the difficulty of persuading the old Republican guard to buy into his agenda.  Said he knew the only way to ‘Make America Great Again’ was to replace the Rinos, you know that stands for ‘Republican in name only,’ with congressmen and senators who are fully committed to the Kane brand of politics.”

“I bet he convinced Warren that God had favored him or some shit like that.”  I said, wondering why I continued this conversation.

“Warren did say the President asked for prayer, and even invited

Warren up to the White House in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s all we need in America.  A Kane theocracy.”

“Listen, Sunday School’s about over, and I need to get to the auditorium.  I’m sure Pastor Warren is fired up.”

“One question please.  Why did you skip Sunday School?”

“Oh Walt, you know that I only come to church for social reasons.  And, to keep up with the local gossip.  It’s even better than

Grumpy’s.”  

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been sipping the

Kool-Aid.”  

After hanging up with Vann, I slipped on my walking shoes and headed to the mailbox for the Birmingham News.  Half-way there, Regina turned into my driveway and pulled alongside me.  I kept walking and she backed her car keeping pace with me.

“Well, this is a big thank-you and loving greeting after I baby-sat you last night.”  Regina said acting a little pissed.

“Oh hi.  Can I help you Miss?  You must be lost.”

“Wow, you’re mad because I didn’t stay all night, aren’t you?”  

I walked over and leaned down into her car kissing her on the cheek.  “Just playing my love.  But, you are right, I did want you to stay all night, just like I do every night.  I kind of like you, you know?”

“Let’s take this inside.  Hope you’re hungry.  I brought a pizza. 

Grab your paper.  And, I’ll go grab you a beer.”

“Not even funny.” I said walking on towards the mailbox.

 

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 24

I woke up Sunday morning with a splitting headache.  I had a hangover.  I couldn’t remember if I had ever had such a thing.  I hated beer, and rarely drank any type of alcohol.  Last night after Justin Adams’ campaign kickoff I had this insatiable desire to kill myself.  I settled for getting drunk.  Regina and I had wound up at my house, but only after I convinced her to let me purchase a six pack of Coor’s Lite.  We sat out on the back porch till nearly two a.m.  After three beers, I was buzzed, and she helped me get in bed.  I now assume she left because I don’t see her, and she certainly isn’t lying beside me in my bed.

After stumbling through my bathroom routine, I went downstairs and grabbed a large cup of black coffee, thankful for an automatic coffee maker, and promising myself I would never drink another beer.  I sat down on the couch and flipped on the TV.

For some reason, Fox News Sunday with Chris Wallace was on.  I guessed Regina had watched some TV after I went to sleep last night on the couch.  He was talking about Kane’s Twitter fight last week with Morning Joe’s, Mika Brzezinski and Joe Scarborough.  As usual, Kane had called Morning Joe’s assessment that a ‘real’ President doesn’t make public statements that he is going to rain down fire and brimstone on another nation, especially, through his Twitter account.  Just as I was about to flip over to CNN’s Meet the Press, I saw a photo of President Kane standing on a stage behind a podium.  Behind him was a huge banner that read, “Justin Adams for Governor.”  This caught my attention.

Wallace went on to describe how a mean and tactless Kane had totally humiliated and embarrassed a former White House stenographer. 

The screen revealed the President’s exact statements he made to me, while Wallace read them: “I see I’m here among many friends and at least one enemy.  Walt Shepherd, you should be ashamed of being such a coward, of hating freedom and being so brainwashed by the liberals.”  The TV then showed multiple panorama sweeps of the entire Bevill Center, revealing an overflowing crowd of diehard Kane fans.

I switched the channel to CNN and caught the tail end of Chuck Todd’s, Meet the Press.  He, likewise, had chosen to conclude his Sunday morning program by featuring President Kane’s trip to Alabama, and his branding of gubernatorial candidate Justin Adams as the face of Kane America’s revolutionary governors.  

Over the next couple of minutes, I flipped back and forth between CNN and Fox News.  I was more pleased with Todd’s conclusions than Wallace’s.  But, both were more sympathetic to my position than to Kane’s.  It was refreshing to hear a Fox News reporter say, “President Kane appears to care only for himself and loses all his empathy, assuming he has any at all, simply to throw raw meat to his base supporters.”  Chuck Todd got specific.  He spent nearly a minute conveying my public statement, the only one I gave after being fired, where I described what had happened in the Rose Garden, what I had heard, and how I had no choice but to stick with the truth.  Todd said, “this country is going to need a lot more Walt Shepherd’s to stop the Kane Train from wrecking America.”

 

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 23

I almost backed out.  Regina called me on my cell as I was leaving

Walmart.  She said, “the eagle has landed.”

“What?  Oh, I bet Kane’s plane just touched down in Huntsville. 

Am I correct?”  

“You got it Mr. Walt.  I know you’re getting excited.”  Regina said whispering back and forth with someone at her desk, probably Claire.

“I’m not going.  I can’t stand the man, and I don’t think I can stomach a thousand screaming Kanelings.”

“You have to go.  I don’t have a choice as editor of the local newspaper, and you don’t have a choice as the boyfriend of the editor.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that.  To my face at least.”

“I hope you consider me as your girlfriend, but let’s save that discussion for later tonight.  Pick me up here at the paper by 5:30. We can grab a sandwich and head on over to the Bevill Center.”

“Oh, okay.  No doubt I’ll be able to hear him say something stupid.  That’ll be good for my book.  See you after a while.”

It was Saturday May 19th.  Local boy Justin Adams was formally announcing his candidacy for Governor of Alabama.  President Kane was coming to Boaz to show his full support for “a real Republican.”  Justin is owner of Adams Chevrolet, Buick & GMC, the Alabama Congressional Representative for this area, the Mayor of Boaz, and the son of accused murderer James Adams.

The rumors around town for several weeks now were that Justin would throw his hat into the ring when Luther Strange and Roy Moore chose to pursue the U.S. Senate seat vacated when Jeff Sessions accepted President Kane’s appointment as Director of the FBI.  From everything I had seen and heard Justin was a good businessman and community leader.  He would make a solid candidate.  Of course, he was a Republican and not just an old guard type of the Abraham Lincoln variety.  Justin is a Kane Republican.  This, to me at least, made him a danger to the well-being of every Alabama citizen.

I read a few chapters in John Grisham’s, The Racketeer.  Of late, I had been rereading, in order, each of the novels spun-out by the legal mystery master.  I showered, dressed, and drove to Burger King for sandwiches and shakes.  At 5:45, Regina and I were eating at the round table in the corner of her office.

“You forgot to tell them to hold the lettuce.” Regina said, followed by her version of the Burger King jingle.

“Sorry, I did request extra pickles.”

“Thanks.  Here, please take this rabbit food.”

“Do you have an angle yet for your article?”  I asked.

“You mean next Tuesday’s article covering the first ever visit to

Boaz by a U.S. President?”

“I thought Carter came here in 1978?”

“Did he?”

“Just joking, I think.”

“I know what I’d like to write but don’t want to be tarred and feathered.”

“What do you mean?”  All I could do was ask questions.

“I thought I mentioned my little conversation with Micaden

Tanner the other day at the Courthouse in Guntersville.”

“I may have forgotten.”

“Not a chance.  I was about to leave when I met him coming in the Blount Avenue entrance.  We chatted a minute and I asked him if he had time for an off-the-record interview.  He said he was heading to a hearing before Judge Broadside but could meet with me in a couple of hours if that would work.  I agreed and hung around town shopping until he was finished.”  Regina took a bite of her Double-Whopper, pulled on her strawberry milkshake, and scanned a magazine.  I thought she had lost her train of thought.

“Are you going to wait until you have fully digested your supper before continuing your story?”  I asked.

“Dinner.”

“What?”

“We are eating dinner, not supper.  You lived in Washington, D.C. for 35 years and you still call it supper?”

“I was brainwashed as a child.  Old habits are hard to break.”

“There were no trials going on so Micaden and I went to one of the juror rooms.  I’ll just give you the highlights since we need to head on over to the Bevill Center soon.  You eat your dinner and listen.  The subject has scorched my appetite.”

“Okay.”

“Remember, this was an off-the-record meeting, so don’t breathe a word to anyone.”

“Girlfriend, boyfriend confidentiality.”

“Funny.  It seems the Flaming Five and pretty much all their ancestors were crooks.  Micaden had limited knowledge of the morality of their sons, the sons of the Flaming Five.”

“I haven’t heard that phrase in a long time.  Wade Tillman, Fred Billingsley, Randall Radford, John Ericson, and James Adams, the Flaming Five.  There’s never been a better high school basketball team, at least in this neck of the woods.

“Correct.  Now, please just listen.”

“Okay.”  I said as Regina placed her right index finger vertically in front of her mouth.

“Three of the five are dead, or so it seems, since they have been missing for, I guess, going on a year.  John Ericson, Randall Radford, and Fred Billingsley all just disappeared.  And, of course, you know that James Adams and Wade Tillman are in some deep shit in Federal court, accused of kidnapping and murder, all sorts of civil rights violations, and bribery and extortion.  Micaden shared with me a ton of stuff that he had learned during his and Matt Bearden’s civil case.  You know when they represented the parents of the two girls who went missing around the time of our high school graduation.  The criminal activities apparently go back to the early 1900’s and include several murders.  Gosh, it’s ten after six.  We must go.  There will be a huge crowd.”

“We had to park on the side of the road next to Corley Elementary School and walk to the Bevill Center.  Before parking, we had driven around and could find nothing closer.  When we walked in there were no seats available. We had to stand in the far-right corner, from the stage, and under the balcony.  Within a few minutes, a Boaz police officer came and whispered to Regina.  She motioned for me to follow her.  The officer led us to the very front and pointed to two seats almost in the center of the auditorium, right in front of the stage’s podium.

“What’s going on?”  I asked Regina as we sat down.

“Journalistic privileges it seems.”

Within a few minutes the show began.  At first it was standard.  Several people made short speeches.  The kind that painted Justin Adams as the perfect man.  Faithful to his loving wife and family, astute as a businessman, and visionary as an Alabama congressman, and Boaz mayor.  One speaker extolled his courage of standing up and supporting the impeachment of former Governor Robert Bentley.  After the cheerleaders sat down, Justin and his family took the stage and were greeted with an encouraging but controlled round of applause.  He made a ten-minute speech, following traditional party lines with lower taxes, decreased regulations, and tighter immigration controls.  Midway through his speech he revealed his full commitment to his President’s mantra of ‘draining the swamp.’  Justin praised the courage of President Kane’s willingness to fight the liberal media and do what’s right instead of playing politics as usual.  His closing remark was, “it’s up to me and all of you to keep the Kane Train rolling.  Let the revolution continue.  The applause this time was certainly rolling upwards.

“I bet you vote Republican in 2020.” Regina shouted above the roaring crowd.

It took ten minutes of screaming and foot-stomping for the overflowing crowd to calm after President Kane was introduced and took the stage.  As he stood behind the podium looking over the crowd and giving thumbs-up in every direction, I couldn’t help but relive the scene in his office last December.  I knew for a fact that the man was a liar.  I couldn’t believe I had been so stupid to come here, and the worst part of all was that I was sitting within twenty-five of the worst President America had ever elected.

It may have been that I continued to sit that caught his attention.  Everyone else, including Regina, was standing, giving him a healthy dose of praise, what he lived for.  Right as the noise subsided he noticed me and stared.  For a long thirty seconds it seemed.

With the crowd silent, President Kane said, looking me straight in the eyes, “I see I’m here among many friends and at least one enemy.  Walt Shepherd, you should be ashamed of being such a coward, of hating freedom and being so brainwashed by the liberals.”  There was not a sound in the auditorium, until his final word.  He then started booing me and motioned the crowd to do the same.  All I could do was sit still and feel wave after wave of hatred flowing over every cell of my being.

Then, the President said, “enough about losers, let’s talk about a real winner.”  He turned and motioned for Justin and his family to return to center stage.  The crowd turned its attention to clapping with praise for, no doubt to me, the next Governor of Alabama.  How could it be anything else. The Adams’ were well-connected, politically, socially, and economically.  They had friends in high places, and low I felt sure.

For the next hour it seemed, I continued to sit and listen to the President lie about how well his administration was doing, and how great he was.  He talked insanely about what he could do in two full terms with the help of true Americans.  I must give it to him.  He was as good at working a crowd as anyone I had ever seen, and I had seen some very talented Presidents.  Not one of them, even Bill Clinton, was as talented at sparking a frenzy.  Of course, it didn’t hurt that ninety-nine percent of those present were as ignorant and crazy as Kane was.

When the speeches stopped and as the band played, Regina pulled me through a side door next to the stage, waved her news badge to a half-dozen Secret-Service agents, led me down a long hallway, through double-doors, and out into a moonless night.

“Come on. I know a short-cut.  We won’t have to go around to the front of the building.  Are you okay?”  Regina said looking at me as a nurse would if I were dying.

“Now that you’ve rescued me I’m feeling invigorated.  Maybe this is what I’ve been needing.  Total embarrassment.  I owe you an apology.”

“What do you mean?”  

“Ever since I moved back to Boaz, all I’ve really wanted to do was teach my stenography class, spend time with you, and piddle around researching my little book.  Now, it’s time to focus.  You and I were probably the only ones present here tonight that see President Kane for what he truly is.  The others have had a double-dose of his Kool-Aid.  It’s time for me to do everything I possibly can to see that he is either impeached or loses re-election in 2020.”

“I love a man with a plan.  I’ve kind of always loved Walt the man but sounds like you have been drinking something stronger than Kool-Aid if you choose to openly and actively oppose the Kane Train.”

“I have no choice.”  I said as we reached my truck and rode silently back to the newspaper for Regina’s car. 

 

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 22

Ginger’s email had read: “Kyle Daniel of Gadsden is taking the deposition of the defendant in a civil assault and battery case.  Be at the law offices of Maynard Cooper & Gale at 9:00 a.m.”  She had also included the address.

I left the house at 7:00 a.m., Monday morning, with the intention of arriving early at the law office of Maynard Cooper & Gale in Huntsville.  Pouring rain and a turned-over tanker truck at the intersection of Highways 431 and 79 in Guntersville, made me five minutes late.  I was happy to learn that Ginger had built in thirty minutes of extra time with her scheduling.

A pleasant receptionist greeted me as I walked inside the giant wooden double doors from the elevators on the tenth-floor.  She led me down a long hallway, introduced me to Kyle Daniel as we crossed paths, and secured me in a large conference room.  She told me Mr. Daniel would be in shortly.  She referred me to a document at the far end of the long table.  “We call it a steno-briefing.  Something we’ve done for years.  It gives you guys an overview of the case.  Introduces you to the players, so to speak, the parties, their attorneys, just a bird’s eye view of the case.  It should help prepare you for the deposition.”  I thanked her as she went for some coffee.

I walked to the other end of the room and set up my stenographic machine.  I sat down and read the title page, “Bruce Kinsley vs. Rudolph Paige, In the Circuit Court of Madison County, Civil Lawsuit for Assault & Battery.”

The receptionist, Greta, said I could call her, came with my coffee.  She lingered just a little too long.  I sensed she was wanting to or was trying to flirt.  I didn’t have much interest; job responsibilities always held my attention.

Greta finally left, and I began to read.  Early last summer Huntsville Mayor Bruce Kinsley and his wife had been confronted coming out of Conners Steak and Seafood.  Rudolph Paige shouted obscenities and complained about Kinsley’s statements to a Huntsville Times news reporter opposing President Kane, saying “he is as qualified to be President of the United States as I am to design a nuclear rocket, or to earn the quarterback job for the New England Patriots.  Kane’s a total buffoon.” The confrontation quickly escalated.  Paige pursued Kinsley and his wife as they attempted to reach their vehicle.  When Kinsley turned his back, Paige hit him on the side of his head with a wooden walking cane.  The police arrived within seconds of Kinsley falling to the pavement.  Paige was arrested and convicted of the crime of assault in early December.  Paige is serving a one-year jail sentence at the Madison County jail.  This civil action was brought during the last week of December. 

Before I could finish reading the briefing, Kyle, Kinsley’s attorney, and several others, walked into the conference room.  Kyle introduced me to his client, Bruce Kinsley, Mr. Paige, and his attorney Brad Caudell. After Kyle directed the seating order, he didn’t waste any time motioning to me that we were going on the record.  He stated the usual preliminary and standard deposition rules including the necessity for the non-questioning party to timely object if he intended to object if the deposition and question made its way to the judge’s ears and the related trial.  So far, Mr. Caudell hadn’t said a word, although he had nodded a couple of times as Kyle ran through his introductory speech.

Kyle’s words were slow and methodical.  He was a stenographer’s dream.  I was refreshed to start my little part-time job with Rains & Associates with such a slow-pitch.  Kyle followed a chronological type plan.  He began questioning Mr. Paige about his background, including his education, work history, and political affiliations.

The pace was so slow that I had time to think about the information I was learning.  Rudolph Paige was a 65-year-old man, quite a success, even though he only had a high school diploma.  He owned and operated a swimming pool construction and maintenance company.  It seemed he had been extremely lucky growing up in Huntsville, with its highest per capita income of any city in Alabama.

Paige, not saying it directly at first, to me at least, was a racist.  He, as a Republican, at first, had loved President George Bush, but became completely disenchanted when in 2008, he choreographed the GM and big bank bailouts.  It was obvious that he hated President Barack Obama.  Responding to one of Kyle’s questions, “the black bastard was born in Kenya, he’s not even a U.S. Citizen.”

This answer was the perfect segue to Andrew Kane.  To Paige, Kane was God’s gift to America.  “He’s perfect because he ain’t no damn politician.  He’s going to drain the swamp.”  It was clear Mr. Paige had little knowledge of American history, and certainly little understanding of how the U.S. Constitution created three branches of government with a plethora of checks and balances.

Kyle had done his homework and did a masterful job of getting Mr. Paige to admit his involvement with the grassroots organization widely known as Kane Tribe.  He admitted active membership and involvement, even shared how it was imperative that many real Republicans win the mid-term election coming this November.  Kyle let Paige rant a little—above Mr. Caudell’s opposition–about “the blithering assholes that call themselves Republicans now serving in the U.S. Congress.”  Paige seemed to catch himself when he said, “enemies of freedom must get a change of heart or face ….”  He caught himself right as I think he was about to say ‘death.’  Paige finished this statement by saying, “embarrassment come mid-terms.”

Kyle ended his questioning with nearly forty minutes spent on the confrontation and assault outside the Conners Steak and Seafood restaurant.  Paige, at first, denied even being there, and certainly denied it was him that hit Mr. Kinsley.  After an off-the-record discussion with Caudell taking his client out in the hall for nearly ten minutes, Paige admitted he had confronted, cursed, and struck Mr. Kinsley.  I guess Caudell had told him, “look Rudolph, you have already been convicted of the crime of assault.  This civil case is not about whether you did the deed, it’s about how much you are going to have to pay for the injuries and other harm you caused.”

When Kyle finished his questioning, we took a fifteen-minute break.  I went to the restroom and then was given another cup of coffee by Greta as I was coming back into the conference room.  I sat down and started flipping through recent texts on my iPhone and was reminded that Ginger had sent me a message early yesterday morning that there had been an add-on deposition.  It would take place after Mr.

Paige’s.  Ron Suttleworth was a key witness for Kyle.  

After the break, Mr. Caudell had only a few questions for Mr. Paige, mostly questions clarifying what he had said in response to Kyle’s previous questions.  

Mr. Suttleworth’s deposition took nearly an hour with Kyle going first.  He had the most to gain from deposing the chief witness.  Kyle already knew from the criminal trial what Mr. Suttleworth was going to say.  Of course, Caudell did too but he wanted another opportunity to see if he could detect a crack somewhere in what he had seen that might decrease his client’s financial exposure.  I’m sure Caudell would love to hear Suttleworth hedge his response to “are you absolutely positive that Mr. Kinsley didn’t trip and fall,” or some silly surprise that might arise.

I found it strange that Caudell hadn’t arranged to depose Mr. Kinsley.  It seemed this would be the perfect time to ask the plaintiff a whole host of questions about his injuries.  I later learned, as Greta caught me about to enter the elevator, that Kinsley and two of his doctors were being deposed tomorrow, same time, same place.  I was happy that Ginger hadn’t assigned me to those.  I had a feeling that recording a doctor would be a lot more difficult that what I had just experienced.

Greta invited me to lunch, but I begged off by claiming to have another appointment in Gadsden.  Sometimes, lying really came in handy.  

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 21

I seemed to have skipped Chapter 21. I suspect I intentionally, before publication, deleted my draft for this chapter and then failed to renumber the other chapters.

Tomorrow, I’ll post Chapter 22.

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 20

I was reading Camino Island, John Grisham’s latest novel, early Sunday morning when Regina called. 

“I know it’s early, but I knew you were up.  I just wanted to give you plenty of time to get ready for church.”

“Church?  Why do you think I want to go to church?”  I said, closing my book and laying it aside on the end table.

“Don’t think of it as church, think of it as investigative journalism.”  Regina said. I could tell she was in the bathroom because I heard the commode flush.

“That’s your job, not mine.”

“I need an assistant, an extra set of eyes.”

“Well, I am pretty observant.  I now detect you are in your bathroom.  And, your standing in front of the mirror admiring your hot body.”

“Walt Shepherd.  Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“A good detective just follows the facts where ever they lead.”  I said, questioning whether my vision includes her in a matching pink bra and panties.

“I have to say I kind of like what I’m hearing, but I’m blown away hearing it from you.  This isn’t quite like the Walt I knew back in high school.”  Regina said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Back then I was so brainwashed by Christianity I couldn’t allow myself to be tempted.  Now, that’s powerful.  What normal teenage boy doesn’t think about sex and attempt at every opportunity to explore?” “Earth to Walt.  I called to tell you that we are going to First

Baptist Church of Christ today.  Be ready at 10:30 and I’ll pick you up.” “I like the sounds of that.  I’ll be waiting.”

We arrived a few minutes early and continued to sit in Regina’s car.

“Why are we really here?”  I asked Regina.

“I figured you were bright enough to think this through.  Anyway, I’ll lay it out for the simple-minded.  Most of this is old news, at least to those with their heads out of the sand.  Warren Tillman is now the lead pastor.  Sometime last year, Wade, his father, was arrested for a bunch of stuff, including murder.”

“You don’t have to tell me all that.  I’ve kind of kept up with the rumors.  There are three unsolved cases, murders, whatever.  The disappearance of John Ericson, Randall Radford, and Freddie Billingsley.  Don’t forget, we all went to high school together.  You were there.”  I said, feeling strange even talking about this stuff.

“Okay, so I assume you have somewhat kept up with Micaden Lewis Tanner?  Do you remember him being charged with murder the summer after we all graduated from high school?”  Regina said.

“I do.  He was acquitted.  Right?”

“Gosh, it’s nearly 11:00 o’clock.  Let’s go.”

We walked inside the auditorium and an usher whispered that there were a few seats up in the balcony, the main floor was overflowing. 

Regina and I turned towards the balcony stairwell without being told. 

We both remembered exactly where it was.

We had to walk to the far side of the balcony.  It seemed every person already seated turned and watched us.  I glanced a couple of times toward the seated faithful but mostly looked ahead.  I didn’t see a soul I knew.

We found a seat on the front row of the far side.  I remembered from my youth the disadvantage of these seats.  The designers hadn’t considered rightly.  When seated, you looked out into a golden safety bar that ran horizontal eighteen inches or so above a two-foot solid wall in front of your feet.  To see the pulpit and most of the choir you had to slouch down in your seat, or sit on the edge of your seat, straight-up, and look over and down onto the main floor.

The choir finished “Victory in Jesus” just as we settled in our seats.  Pastor Warren walked to the pulpit and thanked everyone for coming.  He spent a couple of minutes welcoming three rows full of visitors from a church in Michigan who were passing through and headed to south Florida or somewhere for two weeks of mission work.  Warren said, but I didn’t catch the exact details, what had brought the group to First Baptist Church of Christ.

After another half-dozen songs or so, Warren showed why a Tillman had been pastor here for over a hundred years.  He, just like I remembered his grandfather Walter, and his father Wade, was a dynamic speaker, rarely used notes, and used pitch, tone, and a multitude of body language to always be persuading.  He put to shame, almost every politician I had ever known.  The best compliment I could give him was, ‘Warren, you are the most genuine, believable salesman I have ever seen.’ 

Of course, Warren’s preaching didn’t convince me of anything, other than it was just one more dose of the Christian myth.  I had learned a long time ago that when I had to endure a sermon, I would think about being on a sandy beach, maybe on a Caribbean island, walking together with Regina.  I was very capable of immersing myself in this storyline for a good hour.  Funny, I always started the plot with me rejecting Franklin Ericson’s offer, telling Jennifer I wasn’t the man for her, and instead, pouring my heart out to Regina as we sat in our ladder-back chairs in the barn loft.

We were riding back to my house after Warren called a halt after five or six ‘come-to-the-altar’ verses of “Just as I Am,” when Regina’s phone vibrated.  It was lodged in the car’s console and I automatically looked down on the screen.  It was Delton.

“Hello.”  Regina said.

She kept silent and continued driving for what seemed like a couple of minutes.

“I’ll be there at 2:00.  Thanks.”

“May I ask what’s so important you can’t stay with me all day.”  I said, convinced someone or something was conspiring against me, against me spending some quality time with the woman I loved.  Had I really thought that?

“Delton, my crime reporter said there’s been a development in the murder case, Frankie’s case.  He needs to discuss an angle he is considering.  He doesn’t want to waste a lot of time drafting his article if

I’m opposed to it.”

“How long will it take?”  I regretted saying that as soon as it left my mouth.  Now, I’m sounding like a desperate teenager.  Surely, I’m not so needy.

“Not sure.  I’ll call you later.”

Regina dropped me off at the back porch.  I had thought she might come in for a sandwich, but she seemed preoccupied.  I refused to grovel, said goodbye and walked inside.

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 19

Saturday morning, I awoke to Sandi’s ear-licking.  She never jumps up on my bed unless I oversleep.  I grabbed my iPhone from the night stand. 7:30 a.m.  I’m normally an early riser.  It’s a hold-over habit from my 35 years at the White House.  Then, I would be up reading by 4:30 a.m., usually a novel, then take a walk around 5:45.  At 6:30, I was back at my town-house for breakfast and a shower.  By 8:00 a.m. sharp, I was at my desk in the Eisenhower Building reviewing my latest pending transcript.

Sandi and I stayed in bed until 8:00.  I was lucky she could still jump up on the bed.  She was the fourth Golden Retriever I had had since Mom and Dad had bought me the original Sandy, a male, the day before I was to start junior high school.  Their action was a bribe, pure and simple.  I was refusing to go, arguing that I wanted to stay home.  I think I even told them I wanted to be home-schooled, which was a nonexistent term and possibility at the time, as far as I knew.  Vann Elkins, good old Vann, had, all during the previous summer, shared with me, the horrors of Boaz Junior High.  Gym class was the worst, “you had to walk naked, single-file, back and forth across the basketball court, six times, on the first day.  It was some sort of tradition.  He knew this because his older brother, Vernon, then a rising ninth grader, had told him.  My willingness to believe Vann’s stories and to refuse to step foot in Boaz Junior High, ended two days before ‘D’ Day when Dad came home with Sandy, only six weeks old.

It was like Sandy knew he had a job to do.  And, he did it well.  Seven years later I completed high school.  The afternoon after our graduation ceremony, I found Sandy dead in the hall of the barn.  An autopsy revealed that he had been poisoned.  This case was never solved, but I always believed it was an intentional act by a neighbor who had a reputation of hating dogs and cats and about everything else.  Other than my first year at the University of Virginia, I had never been without a Golden Retriever.  Based on my experience, I knew that around age nine or ten they begin to lose the strength, and ability, but not the desire, to jump.

After breakfast, Sandi and I took a walk around the pond and ended up at the backside of the barn.  I climbed up into a hay-less loft and found the two ladder-back chairs still leaning against the front wall, probably right where Regina and I had left them the last time we were here.  It was the night I told her I was engaged, I guess what Jennifer and I had agreed on (more her father’s conniving) was best termed an engagement.  I moved my chair, the darker colored one, over in front of the big double-doors, turned the simple but effective wooden latch, and pushed-open the door.

Sitting in my chair and gazing toward the back porch had always been my favorite spot for reminiscing and contemplating.  I had hoped to wake up this morning with Regina by my side.  Between the two of us I was the only one, as far as I know, who had contemplated such a fast-paced turn of events.  Ever since seeing Regina in her black dress on that Tuesday and not to mention our hug when I was about to leave.  What if she had not stopped me from putting my hand on her hip?  It wasn’t a surprise that she had.  But, that hadn’t stopped me from thinking about her for the past three days.  I had fantasized that after dinner Friday night we would retire to the den and listen to some of the old eight-track cassettes I still had, the ones we used to listen to nearly a half-century ago.  I could see her smile and hear her burst-out loud when I played Floyd Cramer.  But, then, we would start to dance.  And, unlike every time before, this time, she would allow me to undress her.

It had been a long time since I had felt a woman’s body lying next to mine.  Five years ago, I had succumbed to the mighty hand of temptation (a hang-over from my Bible and church days) and started an affair with a 35-year-old brunette recently hired in the White House’s communications department.  I met her in the Eisenhower Building’s cafeteria.  That day, it was extremely crowded.  A table opened as we both exited the check-out lane.  We looked at each other and didn’t say anything, both just shrugged our shoulders and walked over.  It was the first of many lunches over the next month.  Within a month we were dating, love-making, and seriously discussing her, Charlette, moving in with me since I had the bigger place.  She was tall and had the perfect figure, well, what most men would call the perfect figure.  Big, but not over-sized boobs, a nice derriere, what every Southern neck referred to as ‘ass.’  Everything seemed to go well until Tad Goldstein slithered up one day in the cafeteria and shared a table with Charlette and me.  Tad was one of my team-mates in the Stenographic Department and one, I always believed, played a tad of a role in getting me fired.  Less than a week later, Charlette told me, without words, that her and Tad were now a couple.  She had been the only naked body I had touched since Jennifer died in 1980.  

I had planned a romantic dinner after she accepted my invitation on Thursday.  But, thanks to Frankie Olinger, our plans were thwarted.  He had been arrested late Thursday afternoon and it would seem a stretch for this to have interfered with our Friday night plans.  If Olinger had been Regina’s father, that would have been different.  Regina called me at 4:30 yesterday afternoon just as I was getting serious in the kitchen.  She had said Belinda had called and asked her to go with her to Guntersville to visit Frankie.  Regina said Belinda was a basket-case.  I hated that term.  Aren’t we all?  However, I did respect Regina’s decision to support her sister.  They had a fragile relationship at best and hopefully being together last night tilted the positive side of the scale.

My mind stirred up a vision of what Regina would have looked like last night while we stood and listened to Floyd Cramer play Gentle on My Mind, when her black dress hit the floor.  Then, my iPhone vibrated.  I stood and pulled it out of my pocket.  It was Ginger Crumbly. I was glad I had entered her information into my Contacts.

“Hello.”

“Walt, this is Ginger from Rains & Associates.  Did I catch you at a bad time?”

I almost started to tell her it was perfect timing, since I was thinking about beautiful naked girls.  I decided differently. “No, not at all.”

“I know this is a little faster than I had thought, but I have you an assignment.  Can you be in Huntsville Monday morning?”

“Sure, I guess.  You’re right, this is more sudden than I thought it would be.”

“Attorney Kyle Daniel of Huntsville is taking the deposition of the defendant in a civil assault and battery case.  Be at the law offices of Maynard Cooper & Gale at 9:00 a.m.  I’ll email you the address and the relevant details. “

“Is that the same Maynard Cooper that you are neighbors with in

Birmingham?”

“It is.  We get a lot of work from them.  They also have an office in Huntsville.  Hey, I got to run.  Bailey, you know.  Let me know if you have any questions.  I check my email every few hours on the weekend.” “Tell Bailey, Sandi says hello.  She’s my Golden Retriever.” “I will, thanks.”

I sat back down wishing Regina were here to talk.  I needed a mind other than my own to convince me I had made a right decision taking the Rains’ part-time job.  I was nearly nauseous as I climbed down the wooden ladder from the loft and walked to the back porch.

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 18

The FBI’s ballistic analysis and that of the Alabama Department of Forensic Sciences concluded that the bullet that killed U.S.

Representative Kip Brewer was fired from a Springfield 30-06 rifle.  The empty cartridge contained finger prints that matched those of Frankie Olinger.

On February 28^th, a search warrant was signed by Judge Tyler

Broadside, Circuit Judge of Marshall County.  The warrant was executed at 9:30 p.m. while Frankie, Belinda, and Regina were eating a late supper. A matching rifle, with a high-powered scope, was found in the gun case in the basement.  A pair of muddy hunting boots were also photographed and removed from a closet beside the basement’s bathroom.  Shortly before 10:45 p.m., Frankie was taken into custody and transported to the Marshall County Jail in Guntersville.

By 11:30, Detective Darden Clarke and FBI special agent Cory Stiller were sitting with Olinger in Interrogation Room Four. 

Clarke: “Mr. Olinger, you have been arrested for the murder of U.S. Representative Kip Brewer.  I need to go over your Constitutional rights.”

Frankie: “I know my rights.  I’m ready to talk.  I have nothing to hide.”

Cory: “Mr. Olinger, to protect all of us, you and us, we have to follow procedure.”

Clarke: “First, I’m going to read you your rights, then, I’ll ask you to read them, and see if you have any questions.”

Clarke motioned for Cory to read.  When he was finished,

Frankie said, “hand it over here.”  He glanced at the document, asked for a pen, signed his name, slide the single sheet back over to Clarke, and asked, “what do you want to know?”

“Where were you on the night of Thursday, February 1st, between 2:30 and 3:00 a.m.?”

“Home.  In bed with my wife.”  Frankie said sitting straight in his gray metal chair.

“Mr. Olinger, let’s not waste your time or ours.  We have your fingerprints on a shell casing that was found at the edge of the woods where the Brewer’s killer fired a 30-06 Springfield rifle.  We strongly suspect the 30-06 rifle we seized tonight from your house is going to match the bullet we recovered from the cedar siding on Brewer’s back porch.”  Cory said, sitting on the edge of the table.

“I know it looks bad for me.  I’m trying to figure out how I killed good Mr. Brewer.  Unless I was a magic ghost or something similar, I couldn’t have done it.  I was at home asleep.  But, when I heard he had been shot, I knew you guys would come for me.  Since I argued with him at the Bevill Center.”

“You didn’t like Mr. Brewer, did you Frankie?”  Clarke said, sitting directly across from Olinger.

“No, I hated the man.  He’s a turncoat, won’t support Kane, the best President we’ve had since Reagan, maybe better.”

“During the Town Hall meeting just a few hours before Brewer was killed, you declared him an enemy and promised he would be killed?  Am I correct?”  Cory said standing up and walking to the other side of the table to sit again crowding into Olinger’s space.

“Not sure I promised him anything.  Did say in a war people get killed.  Hate it for the man’s family but he should have done the right thing.  Be a real Republican or get the hell out of the Party.”  Frankie said attempting to stand but pushed back down by Cory.

“Mr. Olinger, let me ask you something.  How could your fingerprints be on the empty cartridge we found at the murder scene?”  Clarke asked.

“Not my problem.  I didn’t have anything to do with his killing.”

“Seems to me it is your problem.  You do realize you have been arrested for Mr. Brewer’s murder?”  Cory asked.

“Could be somebody borrowed my gun.  You ever think of that?”  Olinger said sneering up at Agent Cory.

Clarke walked over to the intercom on the wall and asked the deputies to come carry Frankie to a cell. 

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 17

It was only the first day of March, but it felt like mid-summer.  Eighty-four degrees at 11:30 a.m., when it was supposed to be, at most, slightly above freezing, pointed my mind towards the issue of climate change.  Now, however, wasn’t the time to mind-muddle that earthrocking question.

I had been surprised last night when Ginger Crumbley called.  Not only because she called, but because she called so late.  I didn’t lie to her when I told her that I had planned on calling her today.  After I answered, she introduced herself but spent a minute or so elevating the extraordinary Regina to Queen status.  I verbally nodded toward every compliment.  When she tired of that she told her mooch, Bailey I think she called him, that she would walk him in five minutes if he would go fetch his collar.  I think Ginger was testing me, seeing if I could listen.  I was glad she didn’t demand a transcript.  Finally, she let me agree to come today at 1:00 for an interview, saying, “this is just a formality.  You have the job if you want it.  I’ve checked you out.  Pretty good credentials.”  A little snickering on her part and she was out the door with Bailey.

As I turned off Highway 431 onto 77, I tried to remember when the last time I was in Birmingham.  Surely, I had been since Jennifer and I attended the Auburn vs. Alabama football game at Legion Field two days after Thanksgiving in 1971.  I still remember the score: Auburn 7, Alabama 31.  Jennifer’s father, a big donor with the Alabama Crimson Tide, had given the tickets to us as another incentive for me to marry her.  Of course, that’s not exactly how it was presented, but now, nearly a half a century later, that’s clearly what it was.  Back then, I didn’t care what Franklin Ericson’s motivations were.  I wanted to see Pat Sullivan and Freddie Beasley rip the Tide’s defense to shreds.  I knew in my heart this was going to happen.  I was wrong in the worst way.  Sullivan didn’t throw a single touchdown pass.  As super wonderful as he was, I believe Auburn’s only score was a halfback pass from Harry Unger to Dick

Schmalz.  Forget Auburn.  I was now self-classified as an avid fan of Nick Saban and the Tide, even though I had never, as a fan, attended a game.

I continued to look-back over the past half-century.  My failed marriage to Jennifer, including our inability to have children.  My love for and desire to teach.  How fate or something had so arranged the stars that led me to a 35-year career at the White House.  How I deplored President Andrew Kane.  I almost got nauseous even using the words President and Kane in the same sentence. 

I arrived at 12:25 p.m. within a stone’s throw of Harbert Plaza, The Regions-Harbert Plaza sign said, but it took me nearly fifteen minutes to find a suitable parking spot.  I finally found one in Deck 3 on North 20th.  I nearly jogged back to the Plaza and was sweating by the time I stepped onto the elevator.  The 28th floor was home to some big names: the law firm of Maynard Cooper & Gale; the accounting firm Ernst & Young, and insurance company Northwestern Mutual.  It was also the home base for Rains & Associates Court-Reporting.

Ginger was waiting on me in the small waiting room.  “I just returned from lunch.  I’m Ginger.”

“I’m Walt.  How’s Bailey?”  I’ve never been very good at chitchat.

I followed her back to a corner office where a tall and slender man was standing looking out at the Birmingham skyline.

“Walt, this is Zel Peterson.  He’s my boss.  He happened to be in town and wanted to meet you.”

“Hello.” I said as we both walked towards each other and shook hands.  “I’m Walt Shepherd.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you Walt.  Ginger has briefed me on your background.  I sure hope you will come on board with us here at Rains.  We are getting a little desperate and will take about anybody with a steno degree.  Just kidding.”  Zel said pulling out a chair and motioning for me to sit.

Ginger continued to stand across from the large oak conference room table I suspected was a true antique.  She too was tall, probably six feet in the spike heels I had noted walking behind her.  I had also noticed a robust rear that reminded me of Regina’s, but I needed to focus.  Ginger, a curly red-head, was a looker.  “Walt, could I get you something to drink, coffee, a coke, water?”

“Water would be nice.  This heat and the walk over from Deck

3 has me perspiring a little.”

“Walt, may I call you Walt?” Zel said.

“Of course.”

“I’m going to leave you and Ginger when she returns.  Before I go, may I ask you a question, the type ladies and gentlemen shouldn’t talk about until they’ve known each other for a few decades?”  Zel said, now back on his feet and walking towards the floor-to-ceiling windows in the corner.

“I suppose you can ask me anything.  I’ll let you know if I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“What is your gut feeling about President Kane and what’s on the horizon?”

“You asked.  I’ll answer.  I deplore the man.  There is no doubt in my mind he is the worst President we have ever had, at least in my lifetime.  He is not in the same league with anyone else.  I could accept the man if he were honest.  I could even overlook his crudeness, to a degree.  Simply put, I don’t trust the man.”  I stopped there hoping Zel wouldn’t press me on his second question.

“Thanks for your honest opinion.”  Zel said taking a bottle of water from Ginger as she walked in. “What’s your thoughts on where we, as a Nation, are headed?”

“Funny you ask this.  Ever since the first indication that a large enough swath of American citizens was leaning favorably towards him, I have been thinking of writing a book.  That desire has ridden the waves of my mind like a roller-coaster.  But, after getting canned by the White House and moving back home to Boaz and seeing firsthand how vehemently attached his followers are to him, I’m reinvigorated about my book.”  I said uncharacteristic for me.  I normally don’t spew out such a long response when asked a question.

“You didn’t say it specifically, but I read your response to mean that you don’t look favorably on the next three to seven years?” Zel asked as Ginger finally pulled out a chair and sat down.

“You’re correct.”

“Okay. Walt.  I very much appreciate you answering my questions.  It was very nice meeting you.  I’ll leave you two alone to get down to business.”  Zel said shaking my hand again as I stood up.

After he was gone, Ginger didn’t say anything for an uncomfortable moment or two.  She just stared at me.  Her eyes looked redder than brown.  It might have been the sunshine from the windows.

“I can see why Regina likes you so much.  You are polished, nice looking, and have a pleasant but professional voice.”  She finally said.

“I’m happy to hear that Regina has conveyed to you that she likes me.”

“You have a sense of humor also.  Perfect.  Now to business.  If you want the job, you have it.  The pay is $200.00 per assignment plus twenty-five dollars per hour including travel, double time for work past five p.m.  We also pay $1.25 per mile for all your travel from the time you leave your home until you return from a job.” 

“I’ve always loved efficiency, right to the point.”

“There’s that humor again.”

“Please tell me what type jobs I would have and my travel zone?”  I said, a little encouraged by the pay scale.

“As you might expect, attorneys are our main client.  Mostly civil attorneys.  You would primarily be working depositions.  One day it could be an auto-accident case.  The next day a medical malpractice case.  Again, depositions.  But, this isn’t the only thing.  We have the contract with the Alabama Administrative Office of Courts.  If a Judge needs a court-reporter, we fill the need.  Just yesterday, Judge Kimberly, in Tuscaloosa County, lost his regular court-reporter to a car wreck.  She wasn’t killed but she did break a leg and two ribs.  She’ll be out for at least six weeks.  Tara Sledge, our stenographer, accepted that assignment.  This doesn’t happen often, at least to this extent or duration.  Normally, if we receive a call from the AAO, it’s just for a reporter to fill in for a day or two, maybe a week.”  Ginger said looking through her day planner.

“I’m very interested, but I have to disclose I have another part-time job.”

“Teaching at Snead State Community College.  You took Stella

Gillman’s place.  I hear she loves Wake Forest.”

“Okay, I’m impressed.  You know a lot about me.”

Ginger looked up and smiled at me.  “If only you knew the half

of it.”

“I really don’t want my work with Rains to interfere with my night schedule at Snead.  I’ve really wanted to get back into teaching and sure don’t want to screw this up.”

“You haven’t taught since 1982 at Prince George’s Community

College in Largo, Maryland.”

“Correct.  Do you also know about my personal vices?”  I said trying to be funny and serious at the same time.

“No, Regina hasn’t been that personal with me.”

“Damn, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Seriously Walt, what are you thinking?  Can you commit to us? 

I promise we will protect your time for your teaching.” 

“How much time do I have to give you a decision?”  I said.

“Fifteen minutes.”  Ginger was not joking.  It was her first serious face since I’d arrived.

“I really wasn’t wanting that much time.  That makes it much harder.  Seriously Ginger, I accept your offer, but with one condition.”  I said.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t want to work every day.  Maybe a day or two a week.  If you are desperate, three days would be my max.  I do want to enjoy my retirement a little.”

“I can appreciate that.  I agree to your condition.”  Ginger said looking back down at her planner.  “If you don’t mind, I’ll send in my assistant with the employment forms you need to sign.  She’ll also equip you.  I’ll call you with your first assignment.  It’ll probably be a few days. 

Thanks Walt and it was very nice meeting you.” 

We both stood, shook hands again, and she was gone.

Rita, the assistant, came in a few minutes later.  I completed tax withholding forms and a few other standard forms.  I was a little surprised not to be presented with any type confidentiality agreement.  I guess that’s just assumed.  I followed Rita to a large storage room off her office.  She told me to choose my steno machine and my choice of briefcase.

During my drive back to Boaz I didn’t think of the past hardly at all.  I was focused on the future.  I also dwelt on cooking a nice dinner for Regina.